Prelude to the Final Midnight
by raedbard
Summary: A remix of the events of 'In the Shadow of Two Gunmen' and, not to ruin the story, but it's not Josh who gets shot.


**Title:** Prelude to the Final Midnight  
**Author:** Raedbard  
**Fandom:**_The West Wing_  
**Pairing:** None again (gasp). Though I guess you could see Josh/Toby if it so pleased you (as it quite does me.)  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** Exactly 1000 words.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't pretend to be Aaron Sorkin or John Wells. I just like to borrow their characters and make them do morally reprehensible things to each other.  
**Timeline/Spoilers** Re-arranging the events of 'What Kind of Day Has It Been' and 'In the Shadow of Two Gunmen'.  
**Summary:** Not to ruin the story, but it's not Josh who gets shot.

**Prelude to the Final Midnight**

_You are invulnerable, you have no Achilles' heel  
You will go on, and when you have prevailed  
You can say: at this point many a one has failed._

-- T. S. Eliot, 'Portrait of a Lady'

He is not close enough to Gina to hear her clearly when she begins to shout but searches the crowd for her when the shout becomes a scream. Sound begins to gather and rise, thick inside Toby's head. The gunshots he does hear - cracking through the fug of crowd noise and the heavy night air - straight to him. He puts a hand to his head; moves it away in the next moment: his temple hurts so much he can't bear to touch it. And then he notices the unusual warmth across his stomach, and knows it is not his head.

He is, for a moment, alone. He stretches out an arm for Sam ... CJ ... the President. He meets cold air. He looks, he searches - and finds them: blurs of white and red picked out against the glassy black of the motorcade. Then: sounds rush at him, someone's shoulder slams against his and knocks him backwards, he can smell smoke in the wind. Gina is standing in front of him, her face turned towards the crowd, she's searching too. Josh turns back to the motorcade and counts them off, his lips moving without sound through the words, coming up one short.

The stars are out. The shuttle is flying. Toby makes the signal with his hand, trying to see his skin against the night. He can't lift his hand that high without sending that pain back through his ribs, but his fingers bend back anyway; they fly. It could be a wave, but no one can see him and all he can see are feet running past him. Toby opens his mouth and runs his tongue over his bottom lip, tastes the warm blood there and wants to spit it back out, but can't. He tries to breathe, but it hurts.

"Toby!"

The crowd has broken out, there are people everywhere. Josh can't see; it's so dark. She is standing there, her back to him. For a second, Josh cannot remember her name.

"CJ? CJ!"

She turns to him, she holds out both her hands. Her mascara has run, smudged brown under one eye.

"Josh, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine ... I got lost."

"Someone pulled me down. I ... I don't know who."

"Have you seen Toby?"

"He was behind me. I didn't see him ... "

He turns his back on her and starts moving again, half-running, towards a patch of light.

"It was not Death, for I stood up, and all ... "

He chuckles, or tries to, but the resulting sound is even weaker than his voice - ending up a wet gurgle stuck in his throat. He scrabbles at his tie-knot, not bothering to wince at the winding groan of pain spreading across his abdomen. He can't change his face anymore, and he's bitten his tongue.

He moves his hand, still fist - all knuckles, back down to his belly and presses hard and fast. His fingers are sticky, and dark in the moonlight. It shines into his eyes. So he closes them.

Josh turns the corner, "Toby?" There is light streaming on to them now, covering the paving stones.

"Toby? Didn't you hear me yelling for you? Toby?"

Josh watches him opens his eyes, sees him squinting. He raises his eyebrows at Josh, almost as a shrug, and his index finger, the only one not part of a fist, rises in the same movement. In the next second Josh feels his fingers mimic the gesture, he turns his hands palm upwards to the dark blue sky, then - fast across his mouth - he smothers the deep breath he heaves in.

He whispers, "Toby?"

Sense is gone now, and thought disconnected.

He's sure he can see Andrea in the crowd somewhere because no one else ever had hair so red ... but it's the wrong side for Andy - Maryland's the other way. She's on the ground. So she's hurt - he remembers the shots. When he moves to go - to help - it's too hard, the pain wraps itself up around his neck, tight and vital. He tries for his tie again but can't raise his hand.

Sound gets through. He opens his eyes because Josh asks him too, but he's too tired to keep them open.

Josh opens his mouth and tries to make sound come out but his throat has gone dry in the night air and his eyes hurt, prickled by the smoke, by the shouting and the sirens. He is so tired now, suddenly, but he can't sit down until he makes the shout come.

"Toby?" he says, his voice too quiet.

Toby tries to look at him but can't turn his head far enough. Josh feels his cheeks flush when he sees the involuntary wetness streaming from Toby's eyes, which don't focus on him. He knows Toby can't really see him anymore.

Josh goes forward but stumbles and almost falls, catching his foot in Toby's jacket pocket, thrown out across the ground with his left arm. He kneels down and pats the jacket back into place over Toby's chest, over the patch of warm wet red that nestles below. Josh wants to fasten the buttons but he can't make his fingers stop shaking, so he strokes Toby's face instead, leaving a tiny streak of blood beside his eyebrow. Toby's skin is white and his beard makes him whiter, bloodless and clammy. Josh lifts his head with both his hands and cradles him.

Toby looks up at him again, his eyes asking something - Josh can't remember what.

"We're going to get help, buddy," he says, into Toby's ear. "You're gonna be fine." Josh leans in, kisses Toby's cheek and the spot next to his eyebrow where the blood still stains. Toby closes his eyes, bats his hand at Josh's arm. Josh can't tell if he's reaching out or pushing away. He takes Toby's hand anyway. "Oh Jesus, Toby ... please."

Toby's fingers squeeze his slightly and his arm sways against Josh's, pushing. Josh remembers what Toby is asking, and then he can't stop screaming.

Toby's delirium leads him to quote Emily Dickinson 510: It was not Death, for I stood up/And all the Dead, lie down - /It was not Night, for all the bells/Put out their tongues, for Noon


End file.
